


The Love You Left Behind

by oliveriley



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, HAHAHHAHAHA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3154244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliveriley/pseuds/oliveriley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's been a while," Katniss croaked, her voice catching as she glowered at Johanna. "Happy new year, brainless."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Love You Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sylverunicorn (sylviewashere)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylviewashere/gifts).



> Grace Potter & the Nocturnals - "Stars"
> 
> A follow up to [That Fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1310770) that all y'all love to hate.
> 
> I don't pretend to have any affiliation to the franchise, this is strictly non-canon fanwork.

It was cold and snow was a thin sheet on the ground; it was white against the inky black of the night that crept inside of the woman and threatened to choke her. Thick fingers of darkness left bruises in their wake across her throat as she stood in the kitchen and filled two thermoses with hot chocolate and whiskey, not swaying or humming, and with no strong arms wrapped around her waist. She stopped, hands with torn knuckles and bruises blooming across the uneven skin, gripping the sink and squeezing her eyes shut, as if a dizzy spell had taken over. The room was too loud and she heaved into the sink and it wouldn't _stop_ , oh God, it wouldn't stop.

\------

_A very old record player cackled to life, bluegrass spilling into the cabin's kitchen that glowed with warmth and life and happiness that bubbled from bellies, chests, throats. The two women spoke in hushed tones, their smiles reaching their eyes, the shorter woman's fingers firmly laced together over her partner's belly as she held on from behind, tattooing promises into her shoulders with kisses. "Dance with me," she breathed, and Katniss laughed. It stopped time, that laugh, and Johanna would swear it even beyond her death because she was so in love and, yeah, that laugh could replace oxygen and her body would allow it. She moved from directly behind the taller woman and held out her hand, and they found themselves in a clumsy waltz, spinning, and Johanna lifted her hand and Katniss twirled, and they laughed and it was breathless and light and there was nothing they couldn't do. They did not exist with patchwork skin and missing pieces and nightmares but with wholeness and love and comfort pumping through their veins._

_"I'm never going to finish these dishes," Katniss laughed as Johanna spun her again, out and away only to draw her back in and dip her, resulting in a squeal and a kiss._

\------

Her gray eyes opened again and she looked up guiltily at the sink. She didn't remember - couldn't - the last time she picked up a sponge. Her heart twisted and she took a deep, shuddering breath as she ambled over to the hall closet and pulled on one of _her_ flannels, and over that her old hunting jacket. She slid into boots and looked up at the cracked mirror, the one that they had sworn was better luck than bad, and took in the puffy bags under her eyes. Her hair was thin and messy, and she covered it quickly with a hat. Her lips looked cracked and dry and she stared at herself without recognition for the person in the mirror, shattered in almost every sense, with her Picasso face and eight right eyes that spread like rose petals over the side of her crooked face.

\------

_Katniss watched though the window over the sink as Johanna stood on their property - not technically a yard in the middle of the woods, but theirs all the same - shirtless with steam rolling off her back in wisps. She had her flannel discarded on the stump of a tree she had felled, and was working up a sweat chopping at the rest of the monolithic pine for wood to burn. It was cold, but no snow had fallen that year, and the heat of her small but muscled body as she worked was something her partner indoors could not ignore. She bit her lip and ducked her head back to where she was preparing rabbit stew as Johanna looked over her shoulder, smirking and throwing a wink at her wife as she felt the eyes bore into her from the cabin._

_The door opened and Katniss grabbed the sides of Johanna's face, the shorter woman kicking the door shut as Katniss pressed her into the wall. They heard the dull thud and the crack quickly, eyes flying open and apologies tumbling out of lips. "Shh, Kat," Johanna crooned, kissing tenderly, tenderly, from her temple to her nose to her cheek to her jaw to her lips. "I'm okay. It's okay." She looked at the mirror and grinned, the crack radiating from the point that her head hit, permanently disfiguring the right side of any image cast into the ugly oval antique. "I think it gives it character."_

_"It's bad luck," Katniss mumbled from where she had buried her face in her partner's shoulder._

_"No." Johanna kissed the crook of her neck, gathering Katniss closer in her arms. "It's good luck because_ we _put it there."_

\------

The walk was lonely and quiet. The snow was powdery and didn't even crunch under the worn leather boots as the woman made her way to the site, breath coming in huffs and puffs of hot, condensed air that evaporated as quickly as they came. Everything goes as quickly as they come, burning bright and then a collapse that sucks everyone else in, too, Katniss thought to herself. Supernovas. She stopped at the gate and took a steadying breath, opening it and shutting it behind her. Selfishly, she wanted this to be just the two of them. Heaviness pressed against her as she made her way to where Johanna was waiting - she was _always_ waiting; Katniss was slow as she shuffled along, tired and soreness dragging her limbs. "Sorry I'm late. I brought you some hot chocolate and whiskey. You like Peeta's so I tried to make it, but it wasn't very good, so I added some of that whiskey you like. You always just eat what I make anyway so I thought it would help, you know, mask the taste." Her voice hitched, cracked like the mirror, and she put down one of the thermoses. "Might be hot." She lowered herself to the ground slowly, bones creaking, leaning her back against the solid coldness. "You're cold. You hate the cold." She closed her eyes that pricked with tears and shakily took a sip of her own drink, scowling at the taste. It was more booze than anything. "I found another gray hair today." Her laugh was bitter, biting back against the chill of the thin air. "God, I'm gonna be silver soon. It's been so quiet at the house but I took in a cat. I know how much Buttercup - I don't know why you loved that ratty old thing. This one is sweeter. Sleeps in bed and disappears during the day; he's getting old, too. I can't believe I turned forty this year." She bit her lip and with it, choked back a sob. "Delly brought me a cake. She's so sweet. I know you never liked her much but she's sweet. I know Peeta baked it."

A quick glance to her wristwatch confirmed the time. She opened her eyes and glared up at the stars, bright as ever in the clear winter sky. "It's been a while," Katniss croaked, her voice catching as she glowered at Johanna. "Happy new year, brainless." She turned and pressed a kiss to the rough surface of the stone, the sob ripping through her entire body as she curled against the surface of the marker and cried, drunk and the enormity of the world that kept spinning with Johanna threatening to swallow her whole.

\------

"Do you think she'll like it?"  
"I think so. It's right where she's supposed to be."  
"Yeah, you're right."

He placed a thermos by Katniss, the other by Johanna with heavy, weathered hands. They had always begged for him to make the hot chocolate, mostly because they were both lousy cooks. He didn't even know why they had built the cabin with a kitchen, honestly. He brushed his hand over her name once, a kiss lingering on his palm. "Stay warm, you two," he ordered as he stood, leaning heavily on his cane. The cold always aggravated his joints - something that came with age, he supposed, but even his prosthetic seemed stiff. Delly had a tabby cat swaddled in a flannel shirt and held tight against her body as Peeta put his arm around her shoulders. It was an old cat with bright yellow eyes, curious and forever young for the skinny thing, with patchy fur; he still liked to sleep in bed and they really couldn't deny him that. The small family cast a look at the matching markers, Katniss and Johanna Everdeen-Mason, resilient and together as they were always meant to be.


End file.
